It’s amazing how much can change in so little of time. I had a whole 2 months of hope. 2 months of feeling I am on my way towards a better life for myself and my family. Then it was gone. No warning. No chance to brace myself or my family.
In April I had found a moment of energy that pushed me to getting things in order. I busted my butt, and got the house clean, I mean REALLY clean. Not just straightened up and things thrown in the random corners. It felt nice. It inspired me. I started making goals of all the things I wanted to do in our house. All the things I have put off for 2 years since moving into our house. I wanted to decorate and make the place a home. I didn’t want that work to be in vain so I maintained it, and it was easy. The kids were willing to help me, to do their chores with no complaining because it was “doable”. The attitude in the home switched. Dinners became easier. Cleaning up as we lived was easier. We started doing more together, the kids would rather play a family board game than watch TV. I even felt motivated to blog, I felt hope and couldn’t work on my old drafts that felt, for lack of a better word, depressing. I thought this was what I was waiting for. Maybe things will be different now. I was wrong.
Within a blink of an eye I lost it and couldn’t get it back. The motivation, the joy and pride, gone. I had hit a wall and couldn’t recover.
My cousin was getting married and with only a week left before her wedding my Mother informs me she needs help. She has no decorations, no one helping nor even really supporting this wedding. My Mom just wanted opinions and ideas but then she got some bad news. My Mom needed knee surgery and they could only get her in on the Friday (the day before the wedding when she was suppose to decorate and get things ready for the wedding). So to help my mother and cousin I stepped up. I took over the decorations and spent a whole lot of time and energy to get things perfect for my cousin’s wedding. I was exhausted. It took a lot out of me. My cousin never even said thank you, which was surprisingly not a surprise.
As the reception ended I stayed after to clean up and realized my Mother who just had extensive knee surgery was going to be on her own in a very cluttery house (thanks to my father). I knew she would not take the time she needed to rest her knee. She would be getting up too often to make food and wouldn’t be able to escape the temptation to clean her house. So I insisted on her staying at our house. She was there for 1 1/2 weeks. With me feeling drained it took all I had left in me to care for her and all of my routines that I had set up to keep the house clean went out the window. I never recovered. The house never recovered. The burden and failure of being unable to maintain and stay on that positive road pushed me even further down into despair. The temperature even changed, literally. In Phoenix we had one of the coolest Mays we have ever had then suddenly in the last weekend of May we went from high 80s to the 100’s. Trying to work and clean during the day sucks when it’s hot, then factoring in physical and emotional exhaustion, lack of motivation and disappointment, it’s nearly impossible. I couldn’t do it. I backslided into a puddle of quicksand. I couldn’t escape. It feels like I never will.
I look back and think, “Why is this so hard? I did it before and thrived!” but then all those deep dark thoughts steep and stew in my mind and take up all the space in my brain. All those little hidden pockets of dim hope have been blackened into a cancerous ooze.
It’s times like these that I get so angry. Why is this my life? Why is this my lot? Why do I have to suffer so? Why does my family have to go through this? I want to give up. However, I never could do that with a clear conscience. I suppose that’s a good thing. Right?